


Say My Name

by St_Machine



Category: Florence + the Machine
Genre: F/F, Florabella
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 02:18:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5357237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/St_Machine/pseuds/St_Machine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Florence describes her feelings about how Isa says her name in various situations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say My Name

**Author's Note:**

> You may actually have seen this on tumblr but after the discovery of this website I think I'll post some of them here too.

Florence.

How do you say my name? In many different ways, and neither is similar. It can slip out of your mouth as a gentle call when you want to wake me up and draw closer in the bed to look at me, squinting and smiling, buried in the sheets, with a disheveled hair but warm feeling somewhere in my stomach, creeping up to my heart and filling me with a sincere joy.

It can come from the distance, like church bells chiming from afar, calling me, begging and enticing me, and like a long scream I’ve been always echoing, so that you could find me in the crowd and reach out for my hand. We seek and find, hold to each other, with a tintinnabulation of my name still tinkling in our ears.  
You can breathe it through your clenched teeth, glaring at me while being angry with me. It rushes out into the electric air between us like a short hiss, as a punch or a slap that brings nearly physical pain. You defeat me with the sound of my own name, make me feel uneasy or guilty and I step back in fear, for my name is a sword you pierce my fragile shield with.

My name can be a moan on your lips, so sweet and soft, sending shivers down my spine and beating like a monstrously loud drum in my head. It is lost in short breaths, gasps, feverish touches and stays on our skin like permanent marks, proving that we belong to each other, we are the one. These sounds are the chains that never leave us and entwine together, create the union that nothing can break. My heart belongs to you, because you make me yours whispering my name into my lips, exhaling it in me through the thousands of kisses.

Sometimes you burst into tears and shake with terror or grief, tremble in my arms locked around your little delicate shoulders. After a while, you calm down a bit and stay quiet till you disturb the bitter peace with a long sob and cry my name out, embracing me, gripping me as if I was the last human being in this world. The unsure, quivering syllables of this word that you repeat like the holy mantra tear my soul apart, but it doesn’t matter. Whether it can help you, then repeat it million times, even if in the end there won’t be me but an empty shell with an aching and bleeding heart.

Once you shout my name in the window just to hear how it sounds in the wind blowing fiercely outside and laugh, laugh, laugh… Or you say my name in the pouring rain, staying outside barefoot and soaked to the bone, your arms raised up in a hug, water streaming down your face and leaving black mascara tears on your pale cheeks. And then your laugh seems so confident and the elements bow down before your omnipotence, your almighty desire to live every moment of this life.

Florence, the tiny whisper but oh, how meaningful and intimate.

Florence, the sun-yellow honey in the hot summer.

Florence, the thunder and lightning in the grey and dark blue solemn skies.

Florence, the groan, filled with pleasure and begging for more.

It is not just the word for you,

Isabella.


End file.
